


The Downfall

by aluinihi



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Background RoyEd, Discussion of a relationship with an 16yo subordinate, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Riza confronts Roy, RoyEd is not treated kindly here, no happy ending, this is NOT Royai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 13:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aluinihi/pseuds/aluinihi
Summary: It’s easier to judge Roy than to listen to him.[please, mind the tags]





	The Downfall

**Author's Note:**

> This has no happy ending — neither for RoyEd nor for Royai.
> 
> English is not my native language, please warn me of mistakes!
> 
> Age of consent in my country is 14 and I just had to get this out of my system.
> 
> Betaed by vampiricalthorns

Growing up surrounded by alchemy teaches you to feel small. After all, the world is a never ending cycle of matter and you are part of it — one day, all your hydrogen and carbon and phosphorus will break loose and fly away back into the atmosphere. Time and Space expand and you only shrink, since every moment you’re reminded that you’re tiny, insignificant. And so are all your problems.

At least, that’s what Riza tells herself, each time she has to stop and count to three. Because, doesn’t matter how thought-consuming something is, it’s never worth it to lose your temper.

However, Roy Mustang is a master of pushing other’s buttons and, occasionally, she too falls victim to his games.

So when she bangs her clenched hand against the front door — strong, once, twice, thrice — she is very aware that not even the wisest philosopher could make her back down. He is inside, she knows that; the lights are on and she can almost smell the whisky that always tarnishes his breath at this time of the night. She will tear that door down with her bare hands if necessary.

The lock clicks and all her muscles go tight.

“Lieutenant! What a pleasant surp—”

As her fist collides against his mouth, Riza’s insides heat up with self-satisfaction. She doesn’t need to hear any explanations from him, she’s not here to be played like an instrument until she sings the notes he wants her too. What she _needs_ is a punch bag and, hey, this one just so happens to have Mustang’s face on it.

That split lip is going to hurt for days - good, because _that is exactly what he deserves._

“What the hell?!” Roy blurts out, sounding genuinely dumbstruck.

But she can already see the growing fear on his dilated pupils. She storms past him, shoving him to the side with a bit too much strength, and stands in the middle of the living room. Pointing to the empty sofa, she growls:

“Sit.”

Chin raised and lips pressed together, she’s in command now — and it’s refreshing to see the Flame Alchemist cowering under her scrutinizing glare, walking with his head low to the spot she indicates. Riza _feels_ the way he curls inwards more than she _sees_ , but it’s there; the fear, the surrender, the passivity. For a few seconds, she gets drunk on it, on the power she has, on the ability to snap his spine in two with just a few words. But she’s angry, not merciless — for now, at least — and the bittersweet taste of rationality stops her.

She looks down at Roy from where she stands.

“I know.”

Three seconds. It takes three full seconds for him to understand — which is quick, perhaps _too quick_ , and she wonders if it’s something he drags around like a prisoner drags his chains. She observes his features contorting in a detached way; her mind is half-blank and half-disgusting, merging into a grey toxic liquid.

“You really don’t.”

And it’s poisonous, corrosive: it runs raspily throughs her veins.

_he didn’t do anything it was all me lieutenant i swear_

“Explain it to me, then.”

He doesn’t really need to. She can read him — _them_ , actually — well enough. And now, when she thinks back, she should have seen it coming. Those two men are not opposites, but rather squares, a 90° angle, inescapably crossing each other. It’s push and pull, they both want to reach the same place and follow different directions. Inevitable, yes, but death is inevitable as well and no one rushes head-first into that.

“I can’t,” he whispers, or whimpers, whatever, “There’s no way to explain— please, just don’t ask me to feel sorry about it because god knows I am already.”

“Can you at least tell me _what the fuck were you thinking_ when you dragged your sixteen-year-old subordinate to bed?”

Roy winces, his pain louder than when he was punched. He’s silent afterward, and Riza wants to _wreck_ him.

“For how long has this been going on, Roy? A week? A month? _Years?_ ”

She is afraid of the answer and Roy is clearly afraid of the question.

“No!” he cries out, eyes wide and unfocused, “It’s recent, it’s— I mean, we’ve been meeting for longer but it wasn’t like that before, I—”

He sounds like he’s unconvinced. As if he’s been repeating that in front of a mirror, until the words were engraved into his brain. But she believes him and that’s enough for now.

 _lieuten—_ Riza _he’s going to try to put all the blame on himself but it’s really not i did it i convinced him forced him call it whatever the fuck you want_

“So you’re really fucking him, then?”

 _I trusted you_ , she yearns to say.

Roy gasps, shoves the heels of his hands against his eyes, “I’m so sorry, so _sorry_.”

The sobbing begins, and then the shivers, and then the thoughtless rant. There’s that edge of panic attack to it and that’s the moment calm decides to show Riza its teeth. She wants to reach out and comfort, because that’s her brother in arms who’s pathetically pouring his heart out. However, being a sister comes with some disgraceful duties, and calling Roy out on his bullshit is just a small one of them.

“I can’t believe you did something like this.”

And that’s true, she really can’t. When her suspicions came to be, right after one of Ed’s report-delivering visits, she was divided. In her mind, everything clicked but her heart said _Roy could never_ so she accepted that. It was just another fact; the sky is blue, humans need to eat, Roy could never. It took her a whole week to come to the conclusion that Roy not only could, but also would — and _was_ , at the very same time.

Roy’s body convulses forward, as if he’s gagging.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re fucked up.”

“I know.”

“I love you so much, and you know that already— but do you have any idea of how wrong this is?”

“Yes,” he chokes out.

“Then _why?_ ”

And she’s begging at this point, her insides twisting in a mix of pity and disgust. Amestrian age of consent is fourteen, yes, but that’s not a free pass to commiserate with boys almost half your age. It’s twisted, sinful, and she cannot, _will_ not allow it.

“Because I can’t not.”

Riza fists her hair — and who cares if she looks like shit when she’s feeling like shit. And she hates him. Hates him for how much of poet he sounds like even when he’s falling to pieces.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“I love him.”

The burning stops. She’s frozen, halted, interrupted; she’s pure ice, cracking under Roy’s feet. It’s cold here now, and she wishes she could still feel that passionate wrath inside of her. At least it would mean she could forgive him.

“No, you don’t.”

_i don’t know what the fuck i feel for him but i want to stay by his side and i know he wants to stay by mine_

It’s the first time since she’s got here that Roy looks her in the eyes. He is somber, morbid even, as if he’d just found out his name on a blacklist and it’s only a matter of time until he’ll be caught.

“Yes, I do, I love him,” he says, more sure now, with no hesitation, “You can tell me it’s wrong, to stay away from him but it won’t change the way I feel. I would die for him, kill for him, he calls and I’ll come running.

”I can’t tell you why, I can't give you an explanation, Riza, and it’s not because I don’t want to,” he gulps and looks down once again, “But rather because I don’t have one. I’ve been looking for it, I swear, and I can’t find find it.”

Riza doesn’t answer — she can’t, actually. Instead, she looks at him. Reads him, which she’s so good at, that it’s become a comfort zone. It’s easier to judge Roy than to listen to him.

Although the rage still chills her heart, she can taste sympathy on the back of her tongue. And she can’t have that, not yet.

She grabs him by the lapels, her face inches apart from him, and she pulls the shell of his ear until it turns red.

“You have a _week_ , Roy, seven fucking days to end whatever it is you two have,” she snarls, “And if after that I find out that you didn’t, I’m reporting you for fraternization.”

Then she shoves him down, storming out before she can regret her threat.

_if you can excuse a massacre i’m sure you can excuse me of wanting something i shouldn’t have_

Riza is not sure if she needs to throw up, thirty-six hours of sleep, or a bottle of vodka.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism is always welcome!
> 
> I officially have 20 non-anonymous works on ao3, which is good I guess.


End file.
